


Untitled 1

by tamibrandt



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, Wincest Implied
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-04-12
Updated: 2009-04-12
Packaged: 2017-11-04 19:31:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/397394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tamibrandt/pseuds/tamibrandt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Summary – Sam's POV of Dean while in the car.<br/>Timeline - Post Season 2 CHILDREN SHOULDN'T PLAY WITH DEAD THINGS, kinda goes AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Untitled 1

Title: Untitled  
By Tami (tabrandt @ hotmail.com)  
Disclaimer: This story is not meant to infringe upon anyone's rights, only to entertain. Supernatural is owned by Eric Kripke and Warner Brothers/CW.  
BETA: Myself  
Rating – R (Wincest implied)  
Pairing: None  
Summary – Sam's POV of Dean while in the car.  
Timeline - Post Season 2 CHILDREN SHOULDN'T PLAY WITH DEAD THINGS, kinda goes AU.  
Feedback – It would be appreciated. My plot bunny has been lagging lately.  
Word Count: 774 overall  
  
**************************  
  
  
  
Sam glanced away from the miles of highway that seemed to stretch endlessly in front of them. Dean looked at ease behind the wheel, one with the car. Sure the Impala had belonged to Dad, but Dean had driven it for so long that Sam couldn’t remember anyone else behind the wheel.  
  
The black v-neck t-shirt Dean wore was soft from too many cycles through the washing machine. The fabric hugged his brother’s body as did the blue jeans that looked skin-tight, but were just worn enough to be a comfortable fit. The fabric moved when Dean shifted his foot from gas pedal to brake and back. Dean just looked relaxed while driving. One hand was steering while the other rested on his lap tantalizingly near his groin. Sam imagined that Dean could just squeeze gently to relieve the pressure of the fabric without much effort.  
  
Over the last year or so since Dean had shown up at Stanford and needed his help to find Dad, Sam had sat in the passenger seat of the car that Dean babied more than anything. There would be long stretches on the road when neither spoke. Dean would have the radio turned up and sing along to classic rock. Those were the moments, when he was sure that Dean wasn’t paying attention and he would admire his brother.  
  
It had been a while since Dean made use of a razor. As a result his cheeks were shaded by two or three day’s growth of stubble. That coupled with his chiseled features and the lightweight jacket he wore that gave just a teasing glimpse of his throat. Sam could see why all the girls Dean had one-night stands with fell all over themselves to get his brother’s attention. He wasn’t doing too badly in the looks department either. But Dean oozed violence and sex. If he wasn’t hunting or drinking, then he was fucking someone. Sam had spent many a night sleeping in the backseat of the Impala because Dean was in their motel room entertaining some girl in whatever town they happened to be in. She always came out with a satisfied expression. Sam wondered how Dean always knew what rocked the world for whichever girl. Was it a series of maneuvers or just the thrill of fucking a strange guy with the prowess that defined Dean’s personality?  
  
“Sammy, why are you looking at me?” Dean’s voice broke through his thoughts.  
  
“No reason.”  
  
Dean focused on driving, a tilt of his head exposing his neck. Sam remembered more than one occasion where Dean emerged from a one-night stand with a hickey or bite marks on his neck. Sam never said anything, just stared at them and imagined what Dean had done to cause such a reaction.  
  
They were heading to Missouri for some haunting that Sam had found online but he couldn’t remember the details of the case right now. Instead, he looked down at his brother’s groin. Dean’s legs were parted and he slouched a little in the seat. His free hand had move to hold the bottom of the steering wheel in a loose grip. From Sam’s perspective, Dean knew how to handle the Impala, knew just what to do to make the engine purr whether it sped sixty-five miles an hour on the freeway or a hundred and ten chasing after a hunt. It was similar to how Sam envisioned Dean handling the many women they came across. Dean knew what to say to make them wet, make them want him and agree to go back to the motel with him. Sam would have to sleep in the back of the car on those nights. Just before he lay down he’d look out the windshield and see Dean in the window of the motel room giving him two thumbs up before pulling the curtains.  
  
He remembered the first time he came back to the motel after Dean and walked in on his brother and some brunette from the local bar. She was moaning and begging as Dean pounded her into the mattress. Dean looked at him but didn’t stop. Sam turned around, walked out and slept in the car.  
  
“Dude, I can feel your eyes on me. It’s unnerving. What’s wrong with you?” Dean asked.  
  
 _What was wrong with him?_ “Nothing’s wrong, just lost in thought, didn’t realize I was staring.” Sam shifted in his seat, trying to hide it as he discreetly positioned the sudden erection that had sprung up from the idea of reaching over and feeling his own brother’s cock. He looked out the window instead, willing it to go away.


End file.
